


Never Let Go

by Attenia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 12:59:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18121220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Attenia/pseuds/Attenia
Summary: Draco can't get the vanishing cabinet to work and he knows that it's only a matter of time before Voldemort kills him. Why wait for Voldemort to do it, when that will only add torture on top of death? He never expected an unlikely saviour to rescue him. NB: rated M for tags, please pay attention to them. Please don't read if this will trigger you.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Draco walked in the same hallways as the others. He went to the same classes. He went to his common room at night, just like them. It felt as though he was on a different planet, as though he were completely alone, no matter how many people surrounded him.  
The talk of homework, Quidditch, friends, all that other rubbish… it made him sick. How could they worry about such things, when he was slated to die? Desperation was a constant undercurrent in his mind. He couldn’t get it to work.   
The Dark Lord wasn’t going to wait much longer. When he finally realized that Draco couldn’t do it, he and his parents would have to beg to die for hours, maybe days, before they were finally granted release from what he knew the Dark Lord would do to them.  
Draco couldn’t eat. He couldn’t sleep. The words of teachers buzzed through his ears. The only time he pulled his wreck of a mind together was when he was in the Room of Requirement. No matter what he tried, the Vanishing Cabinet would not allow him to fix it. It seemed to be broken beyond repair.  
A wave of nausea hit him at the thought and he ran for the nearest bathroom. He threw up violently, wiping his mouth with a shaking hand. He started to get dizzy, and his gasps for air receded as his ears started to ring. He felt like the oxygen was being slowly sucked from the room and he was suffocating.  
He groped blindly in his robes until his hand found the hilt of the small, sharp knife he now carried everywhere.  
He had to lean on the wall for support as he yanked up his left sleeve. Blindly, he pressed the blade to the skin, making a deep cut. He was vaguely aware of the blood splattering to the floor as his breathing became easier and the room started to come into focus.  
Draco’s breathing calmed as he made another cut, and another. There was blood dripping onto the floor now, and he was fairly certain it was on his robes too. With a murmured word, he conjured bandages and wrapped his arm tightly until the bleeding stopped. He vanished the blood and picked up his bag, moving back into the corridors filled with people, where he was once more alone.  
He stumbled into his last lesson and spent it staring blankly ahead, trying to work out what he could try with the cabinet that he hadn’t already tried. He barely heard the chatter of the rest of the class as the bell rang. He skipped dinner; he felt too sick to eat anyway.   
He spent a few hours before bed in the Room of Requirement, and by the time he was back in his dormitory, he could barely breathe. He’d had the Cruciatus Curse performed on him before. He remembered what it was like to feel like every nerve ending in his body was on fire. Even sleep was no relief; the Dark Lord haunted his dreams.  
Draco didn’t go down to breakfast, so his eagle owl found him as he was walking down to Herbology. He detached the letter, ignoring the curious eyes of his classmates. He slipped it into his robes, and it felt like it was burning a hole through his pocket.   
As soon as Draco read the letter, he knew it had been a mistake – at least, doing it in public had. He ran, knowing he couldn’t keep it together in front of everyone for long. Moaning Myrtle was in her bathroom, and came out at the sounds of his misery. He hung onto the sink for support as he cried, barely hearing her words of attempted comfort, trying desperately to breathe, but the oxygen was disappearing from the room again.  
When he looked at his blotchy face in the mirror, he saw a shocked face behind his.  
Potter.  
Draco’s fear morphed into rage so swiftly that it left him dizzy. He turned and shouted a hex, enraged that anyone should see him like this, enraged that it was Potter, of all people.  
Potter calmly disarmed him. Damn him. Draco’s wand went flying across the room and Potter caught it deftly.  
The fight abruptly went out of him, and Draco sank to the floor. He didn’t care anymore. He couldn’t do it. It was over.

Harry stood, shocked, as Draco Malfoy broke down in front of him. Malfoy didn’t even seem to realize Harry was still there. He gasped and choked on his sobs, his legs giving out as he slid to the floor.   
Harry didn’t know what to do. This was Malfoy – the same Malfoy he hated, the same Malfoy who had tormented him for years. He should walk away, leaving Malfoy to his crying.  
His feet wouldn’t move, though. How could Harry leave anyone, even his worst enemy, in such a state? What kind of person would he be, then? As much as he hated Malfoy, he didn’t like seeing him like this.   
Harry hesitantly went to sit down beside Malfoy, who didn’t even seem to notice him. He put a hand on Malfoy’s shoulder, expecting any second for it to be violently thrown off, but it wasn’t. Harry’s breath caught as Malfoy’s hands grabbed his robes, and suddenly he was being cried on and clung to by a sobbing Draco Malfoy.  
Malfoy started gasping. Harry had had enough panic attacks of his own to recognize one, and took him firmly by the shoulders.  
“Malfoy – Draco – you need to slow your breathing down. Come on now, nice and slow.”  
Malfoy’s eyes were wide with fear and couldn’t focus on anything. Harry shook him gently.  
“Hey, stay with me. Come on. Draco, look at me.”  
He finally did, and Harry spoke on a calm, soothing voice he’d learned from Hermione. “Just breathe slowly, ok? In and out? That’s right. In and out.”  
The other boy’s agonized gasps subsided into more choking sobs. Harry put his arms around Malfoy and held him tightly. He didn’t know how long they sat there for, but eventually, Malfoy quietened.   
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, pulling out of Harry’s grip and wiping his eyes, turning his face away. The movement shifted his sleeve and Harry caught his wrist.  
Malfoy made a halfhearted attempt to twist away, but he was in no condition to overpower Harry. Harry winced as he pushed up the sleeve to reveal a lattice of deep cuts, some looking weeks old, others fresh.  
“What have you done to yourself?” he murmured.  
Malfoy looked for a moment as though he was going to give a snarky response, but all the energy seemed to drain out of him and he answered quietly. “Sometimes I can’t breathe and everything start spinning. This brings everything back into focus.”  
Harry was surprised at his own distress upon seeing those angry red marks on Malfoy’s pale skin. He didn’t know what prompted him to say what he did. He was just feeling so sorry for Malfoy, for anyone who had to resort to that kind of thing to function, that the words came spilling out of his mouth.  
“Come on me, ok? The next time you can’t breathe, come to me instead. You don’t need to do this.”  
Malfoy’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, but Harry ignored this. He reached into his pocket and pulled out two sickles. He murmured a quick spell and handed one over.  
“Take this. If you need me, tap it with your wand, and this one will alert me.”  
Malfoy was staring up at him, his brow furrowed. “Why? You hate me.”  
Harry shrugged uncomfortably. “Not enough to wish this on you.”  
He left before Malfoy could say anything else, leaving him alone with his very confused thoughts. 

Draco’s head was fuzzy as he stumbled back to his dormitory. What had just happened? He felt his wand in his pocket and realized Potter must have put it back without him noticing.   
The next morning, he went to breakfast. He couldn’t force down anything more than half a slice of toast, but that wasn’t why he’d come. He wanted to see how Potter would act, if he would acknowledge what had happened between them in the bathroom.  
Potter didn’t do anything overtly different – he ate and laughed with his friends as usual. Now that Draco was paying attention, though, he saw Potter watching him with worried eyes. He quickly turned away, not knowing what to make of it.   
He fingered the enchanted sickle that he still had in his pocket. It would be a bad idea to use it. Having Potter anywhere near him was dangerous. The boy didn’t know when to let go. It would be only a matter of time before he discovered what Draco was doing and informed Dumbledore.   
He did his best to ignore Potter, pretending that he didn’t see him watching. The sickle remained in his pocket, but he stubbornly refused to touch it.  
Unfortunately, Potter could be even more stubborn than he could.  
Draco got a letter from his mother. She didn’t say it outright, but he could tell that she was scared. If he didn’t do what the Dark Lord wanted, and soon, his parents would be paying the price along with him.  
He felt like throwing up, even though there was nothing in his stomach. Disregarding Charms, he slipped into the nearest bathroom, tears already falling, his breath coming only with great difficulty. He reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out his knife, bringing it down to his slashed-up forearm.  
Someone grabbed his wrist and gently pried the knife out of his grasp. “I told you to call me, you idiot,” Potter murmured. Draco tried to struggle, but he’d become skeletal over months of working on the cabinet, and he had no strength in his body.   
He reached desperately for the knife. He couldn’t breathe, he was suffocating.  
“Calm down,” Potter said steadily. “You’re ok. Everything’s ok.”  
“It’s not,” Draco choked out. “It – he – I can’t –”  
He couldn’t get another coherent word out, and then Potters arms were around him, holding him tightly, and Draco felt as though they were the only thing stopping him from falling apart.  
Soothing words were whispered in his ear as he gasped and sobbed. After a while, the room stopped spinning, and he was finally able to draw breath.   
“I should take you to the hospital wing.”  
“NO!” Draco immediately started to struggle, but Potter just held on. The world was spinning again and Draco’s hands clenched in terror.  
“Ok, ok, it’s alright. No hospital wing. I get it.”  
As Draco slowly calmed down, Potter looked at him with what Draco could only interpret as concern. “When was the last time you slept? Or ate?”  
Draco shrugged, and Potter’s brows drew down in disapproval. “No wonder you’re such a mess. Come on.”  
Draco was too weak to fight. His legs shook as Potter led him out of the bathroom. Everyone was in class, so the corridors were empty. Potter was moving too fast and Draco stumbled, only avoiding hitting the floor face first when Potter caught his arm.   
Draco was so tired. He didn’t want to move. The sensation of someone taking control, taking care of him, was overwhelming. He needed to be strong, to move forward, to save himself and his parents… but not right now. Right now, as inexplicable as it was, Potter had him.  
Draco’s knees gave out and he didn’t fight to stop them. Potter sighed again and easily pulled Draco into his arms, carrying him swiftly along corridor after corridor.   
“Fuck, Malfoy, how the hell did you lose so much weight?”  
The question didn’t seem to require an answer. Potter just tsked disapprovingly. They stopped for a moment, and then Potter was climbing through a hole behind a painting of a bowl of fruit. Draco blinked. They were surrounded by house elves.   
“What can we do for you, sirs?” one of them squeaked eagerly.  
“Draco needs something to eat,” Potter said firmly. He set Draco down, holding onto one of his arms to keep him from collapsing, then waved his wand. A large sofa appeared, and Potter helped Draco onto it. He lay down, finding his head resting on Potter’s lap. He was shaking so hard that the sofa was trembling with him. Potter conjured a blanket and pulled it over the two of them.  
Barely a minute later, the house elves were squeaking words Draco couldn’t bring himself to follow, and Potter was pulling him into an upright position.  
He shoved a sandwich into Draco’s hand. “Eat. You look like you’re about to collapse.”  
Draco stared at the sandwich, his stomach roiling. The smell of the bacon drifting up from it made him feel like he was about to throw up.  
“Draco.” Harry was exasperated now. “You have to eat something.”  
Draco shook his head frantically, trying to push the sandwich away. Being the stubborn git that he was, Potter only got the message when Draco leaned over the side of the couch and started retching. There was nothing in his stomach to bring up except bitter acid.  
Potter frowned down at him. “Ok, you tell me what you want to eat.”  
Draco stared at him, trying to work out how to explain that the sight of food made him sick, made the constant pit of fear in his stomach come up in his throat and choke him.  
“Draco, talk to me. I can’t help you if you don’t talk. Tell me what you need.”  
Draco fought back a hysterical laugh. What he needed was for Potter to do what he’d always said he would and vanquish the Dark Lord. What he needed was to turn back time, to run away, go anywhere, before he was forcibly brought into service as a Death Eater. What he needed was for everything to stop. He needed the gut-wrenching terror to end.  
Thinking of the source of his terror again had him gasping for air and searching futilely for his knife.  
“Hey, hey.” Potter gathered Draco in his arms like a child, and Draco found himself once again sobbing into Potter’s chest.  
Surprisingly, Potter’s arms around him were as good as his knife – better, maybe. Draco finally hiccoughed himself into silence and Potter asked the house elves for some plain crackers.  
Draco flinched, but Potter had on his stern face. “Come on, Draco, you need to eat at least a cracker. Just take a small bite, go on.”  
Draco had never realized quite how beautiful Potter’s intense green eyes were, and he found he couldn’t refuse them. He took the cracker and bit of a corner. Potter was still holding him, stroking Draco’s hair in calming manner.  
Somehow, Draco managed the cracker, and washed it down with a glass of water.   
Harry was fishing in his pocket – when had Potter become Harry? Draco must be losing his mind – and pulled out the sickle. He held it front of Draco’s face.  
“I told you to use this. What’s wrong with you? Don’t you know how to ask for help when you need it?”  
Draco shook his head.   
“You don’t speak very much anymore, do you?”  
Again, Draco shook his head, unable to meet that green-eyed gaze. The weight of fear caused a block in his throat that made talking difficult. It never let up.  
“Well, you’re going to have to learn. Seriously, don’t you go trying to hurt yourself again. Call me. You got that? Call me?”  
Harry tapped the sickle again with his wand, probably checking the charm was still working, then lifted Draco off the couch.   
“I’m taking you back to your common room. You should try to get some sleep.”  
“No. I’ll go to class.”  
Harry looked pleased to have gotten a response. “You’re weak and exhausted. You need to rest.”  
“I can’t sleep. I’ll have nightmares.”  
Draco expected Harry to dismiss this, but he didn’t. His face softened in sympathy. “I understand. You still need sleep, though.”  
Draco couldn’t deny that, so he let Harry carry him all the way down to the dungeons, right to the Slytherin portrait hole. He was curious about how the Gryffindor knew where the Slytherin common room was, but he was too busy trying not to panic about being alone again to ask any questions.  
“Will you be ok?” Harry asked, setting him on his feet.  
Draco nodded. Lies, lies, lies. But Harry didn’t need to know that. “Thank you.”  
The words were whispered, but Harry heard. He gave Draco’s shoulder a squeeze and walked off.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The sickle seemed to be burning a hole in Draco’s pocket. He wouldn’t put it past Harry to have put a burning charm on it. Stupid stubborn Gryffindor. Harry’s words kept coming back to him. Don’t go trying to hurt yourself again. Call me.  
Harry had kept his knife, so Draco slipped one into his robes from the dinner table. He fingered the sickle, filled with yearning. He’d felt so safe in Harry’s arms. He wanted to feel that again.  
He yanked his hand out of his pocket. He was an idiot. He should know better. They were on opposite sides of the war. Harry would find out what he was doing with the vanishing cabinet, he was too nosy not to if Draco let him in, and then Draco and his parents would be dead.  
He did his best to ignore Harry and act cool and collected. It was a Saturday. He managed to force down a few bites of cereal – he really did feel better with some food – and went to the Room of Requirement.  
That day, any slim glimmer of a hope Draco had had was crushed. He couldn’t get it to work. He’d tried everything. It was just too broken to fix. His last idea was finally exhausted. This was the end.  
His parents would no doubt be tortured cruelly before they were killed for Draco’s failure. He felt sick, hated himself for what he was brining on them. He deserved to suffer like they would  
He was too selfish, though. The Dark Lord would kill him; that much was certain. He didn’t want to be made to beg for death first. There was only one thing to do.

Harry yelped as the sickle in his pocket grew hot, much hotter than he’d expected. He cast a quick spell and rolled his eyes. Of course Draco wasn’t calling him. Lucky he’d modified the charm so that it would notify him when Draco was in trouble, whether Draco called or not.  
Harry pulled out the Marauder’s Map and started searching for Draco’s dot. He checked in all the bathrooms, but couldn’t find him anywhere. Strange, that was always where Draco seemed to go when he was panicking. He wasn’t in the Slytherin common room either. Harry’s eyes raked the map until he finally found Draco ascending the stairs to the astronomy tower.  
“Fuck. Fuck!”  
Harry sprinted out of his dorm, bowling over Neville and ignoring Ron’s shout asking where he was going. Harry ran so fast that a stitch was soon burning in his side, but he didn’t dare slow down. Had there always been this many stairs going up to the astronomy tower?  
He finally burst out of the stairwell, gasping for breath. Draco was standing right on the edge, on the wrong side of the safety rail.  
“Draco! Wait!”  
Harry ran forward as Draco turned to him. There were tears streaming down his face.  
“I’m sorry, Harry. Thank you for trying to save me. You did your best. I was just beyond saving.”  
Then he stepped over the edge.  
Harry had been ready for him, and his spell caught Draco before he could even start falling. He twisted and screamed as Harry levitated him back to the top of the tower and confiscated his wand.  
Harry ran to him and pulled Draco tightly into his arms. Draco was still thrashing and screaming obscenities at him, desperately trying to drag himself back to the edge of the tower.  
“Draco, stop it, stop it!”  
Draco writhed in Harry’s grip, but Harry wouldn’t let go. Finally, his energy seemed to run out, and Draco slumped, crying desperately into Harry’s robes. Harry had never seen anyone in such a state of abject terror and misery, and it broke his heart.  
Draco started screaming and screaming, and nothing Harry said seemed to calm him down. He wrestled another knife out of the Slytherin’s hand and tossed it aside.   
“No – please – you have to let me go…”  
“Like hell I do,” Harry growled. “You are not killing yourself, do you understand?”  
Draco was gibbering and Harry couldn’t understand the words, but Draco wouldn’t calm down.   
Cursing, Harry reached into his pocket for his wand. With a few muttered words, he temporarily suspended the anti-apparition wards. Seconds later, they two of them were in the Room of Requirement. It had transformed itself into a room similar to Harry’s dormitory, but with just one bed.   
He carried Draco to it and tucked him in, crawling under the blankets with him. Draco was still screaming, screaming like he was being tortured, and Harry felt helpless, not knowing what to do.   
It seemed the room knew. A potion appeared on the bedside table, which Harry recognized at once as Dreamless Sleep.  
He tried to get Draco to drink it, but all he managed to do was nearly spill it when one of Draco’s thrashing arms hit his wrist.  
“Right, come on, Draco,” Harry murmured. “I’m sorry.”  
He muscled the other boy under his control, pinning his arms and legs. Harry poured the potion down Draco’s throat. Draco started choking, but Harry had expected this and cleared his throat with a quick spell. The potion took effect at once. Draco’s movements became slow, and then stopped all together. He fell into a deep sleep.  
Harry sighed in relief and spent a few moments resting before he forced himself to sit up. Clearly, Draco could not be left on his own. Harry had promised not to take him to the hospital wing, which meant they’d have to stay here. Which meant…  
“Dobby.”  
There was a loud crack and the elf appeared. “Harry Potter, sir!”  
“Dobby, I need a favor.”  
“Anything, Harry Potter!”  
“I need you to get a message to Ron and Hermione. Tell them I’m fine, but they’ll need to cover for me for a few days. You’ll also need to get one of the Slytherins to cover for Draco. Then I need some food in here.”  
Dobby promised it would be done, and disapparated. Harry got back into bed with Draco, holding him protectively. What on earth could he be going through that was bad enough he’d be so desperate to kill himself?  
He settled down to wait.

Waking up was the strangest thing. For as long as he could remember, Draco had woken up with a scream on his lips, sweating and shaking from the latest nightmare. That wasn’t what happened this time. He felt warm and safe. His eyes opened and he came out of sleep gently.  
He was in an unfamiliar room, and there was someone next to him.   
Harry jerked at Draco’s movement and his eyes snapped open. “You’re awake! I didn’t know how that potion would have you out for.”  
Draco tried to remember how he got here, but could only remember bits and pieces. “How did we get here?”  
“Well, you were kind of hysterical after I got you off that tower, so I apparated us here –”  
“Apparated? But you can’t…”  
“I can,” Harry said shortly, and Draco was reminded once again of how powerful the Gryffindor was. If anyone could defeat the Dark Lord, it would be him.  
At the thought of the Dark Lord, everything started coming back.  
“Draco! Focus!” Harry was gripping his shoulders, forcing Draco to look at him, even as the panic tried to take hold. “Just breathe. You’re ok, you’re safe. I’m here with you.”  
“What have you done?” Draco whispered, horrified. “You should have let me jump. What have you done?”  
“I’ve saved your life you idiot! And now you are going to talk to me. What the hell is going on with you?”  
“He’ll kill me.” Despite Harry’s hands on his shoulders, Draco started shaking. “I can’t do it, and he’ll kill me. You don’t understand, I don’t want to be tortured! Please don’t make me go through that. Just let me die quickly, I don’t want – I can’t –”  
The words weren’t coming out any more, overtaken by sobs. Harry pulled Draco to his chest, cradling him and murmuring soothing words, just like that first time in the bathroom.   
“Look at me, Draco. Focus on me. I’m here, and I’m not going to let anyone kill you. Understand?”  
“I can’t do it, please, you need to let me die before he gets to me…”  
“What can’t you do?”  
Draco shook his head frantically. If he told Harry and the Dark Lord found out, that would just mean more torture for him and his parents. The thought had him gasping for air again.  
“Ok, ok, you can’t tell me. That’s alright, just try to calm down, Draco. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”  
“You can’t stop him, no one can…”  
“Voldemort?”  
Draco flinched, and Harry started rubbing soothing circles on his back. “You know he can’t get you here. Not with Dumbledore here. There’s no way he’d be stupid enough to take the school, not right now, anyway.”  
“My parents aren’t here.”  
“Then we go to Dumbledore. He can help you, Draco, and your parents. He can get them out.”  
A hysterical laugh bubbled up inside him. “Why would Dumbledore help me? Why?”  
“You never asked for this,” Harry said gently. “Believe me, I know Dumbledore. He will help you.”  
Draco shook his head violently, but Harry shushed him before he could start panicking again.   
“I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do,” he said steadily, “but I’m not letting you run around cutting yourself and trying to jump off the astronomy tower. So we are staying right here in this room until we find a solution to whatever it is that’s putting you in this state.”  
Draco snorted. “We’ll be in here a long time then.”  
Harry didn’t so much as blink.  
“You.. you surely can’t intend to stay here with me?”  
“Yes, I can,” Harry said stubbornly. “We are not leaving until you are alright. That would probably be easier to work out if you talked to me, but if you can’t, well then I’m just going to stay here and make sure you eat until you’ve worked it out.”  
“You don’t understand.” Draco’s voice was shaking again. “There is no solution. It can’t be done. And my parents –”  
“Hey, calm, focus.” Draco found those green eyes drawing him in before the panic could take him.   
“I have an idea. Hang on.”  
Draco watched as Harry started making complicated movements with his wand. After a few minutes, he summoned something that looked like a timer on a chain and muttered spells over it.  
“There!” He looked inordinately pleased with himself. “This room is officially in stasis. Whenever we leave, it will still be nine o’clock on a Saturday evening.”  
“You can’t pause time. No one can.”  
Harry shrugged. “I can.”  
Draco knew he should be terrified of a wizard this powerful. Even the Dark Lord couldn’t stop time. He wasn’t, though. He just felt safe.  
“Your parents are fine, nothing is happening to them. Now we can take care of you.”  
“Take care of me?”  
“First of all, you need to eat.”  
Draco closed his eyes, hoping it would all just go away. Harry nudged him and held a plain cracker under his nose.   
“I hate you,” Draco muttered, taking the cracker.  
Harry wasn’t satisfied until Draco had eaten three of them. Draco slumped back on the bed, exhausted.   
“I’m ok now,” he lied. “I should go.”  
“Not a chance. You’re having a fucking nervous breakdown, Draco. If you won’t let me take you to the hospital wing, then I’m going to do my best to take care of you whether you like it or not.”  
Draco was suddenly too tired to keep talking. He lay down and looked up at Harry, his eyes asking what his lips couldn’t.  
Harry lay down next to him and pulled Draco close. Draco snuggled into him, breathing deeply, feeling as if the weight on his chest was just a tiny bit lighter. For the first time in a long time, he slept naturally without nightmares.


	3. Chapter 3

Draco still looked like death warmed up when he woke the next morning, but Harry thought he may be a little less pale.   
“Good morning.”  
Draco flinched for a moment before he realized it was Harry. “Good morning.”  
“Breakfast time!”  
“Not hungry,” Draco mumbled.   
“Too bad.”  
Harry watched as Draco ate a pear, insisting he finish it all, along with a glass of orange juice.   
“I need my knife back.”  
“Ha ha, very funny.”  
“I’m serious.” Draco’s voice got a bit higher and Harry recognized the telltale trembling of his hands.   
“Breathe, Draco,” he said, grabbing the other boy’s hands in his. “You’re ok, I’m here, nothing bad is going to happen to you.”  
“I need it,” Draco insisted. “Not to kill myself. Just to help me focus. Please, Harry.”  
“There’s nothing here you need to focus on other than getting better.”  
“I’m fine!”  
“You are not, how many times do we need to go through this?” Harry was secretly pleased that at least Draco was talking more; maybe he wasn’t quite as bad at this as he’d thought. “You are going to eat and sleep until I’m satisfied you’re at least partially healthy, and I’m not letting you leave here until you’ve fucking learned to ask for help when you need it.”  
“I don’t need help.”  
“Glad to see that your usual disagreeable self is coming back, but do you seriously expect me to believe that shit? Come on, if you’re not tired we can at least try to get some homework done. I’ve fallen behind a bit recently, and I imagine you have too.”  
Harry hadn’t realized quite how far behind Draco was until they started on a long Transfiguration essay from McGonagall.   
“What have you been doing all year?” Harry asked, smiling bemusedly at Draco’s attempt to write on a topic he clearly hadn’t taken in a single word of.   
Draco hunched his shoulders and stared at his hands, refusing to meet Harry’s eye.  
“Hey, relax, it was a rhetorical question. Come on, I’ll help you.”  
He probably didn’t do as good a job as Hermione would have done, but Harry thought he managed to explain the module pretty well. They worked for a few hours before Harry called a lunch break. Draco heaved a put-upon sigh, but didn’t gripe nearly as much as usual when Harry forced a bowl of soup on him.  
“I can’t wait to see Hermione’s face when we get out of here and she finds me ahead with all our homework. I think she may have a heart attack.”  
Draco chuckled and nodded. Harry froze, staring at him. This was the first time he’d seen Draco smile, let alone laugh, in… well, he didn’t know how long. He resolved that it was something he wanted to see more of in future.   
Draco was exhausted after lunch, so Harry forced him to have a nap. Draco only agreed when Harry lay down in bed next to him and stroked his blond hair until he fell asleep.   
Somehow, over the past few days, the hate that he’d had for the Slytherin for so many years had all but vanished. He was shocked to realize how much he was coming to care for Draco. He resolved he’d do whatever it took to save him.

Draco woke to Harry shaking him awake. He realized he was sweating and shaking.  
“Just another nightmare,” Harry said sleepily. “You’re alright.”  
Draco clung onto him until the taste of fear in the back of his throat diminished.   
“You want to talk about it?”  
“No.”  
Harry didn’t seem to mind this, seemingly perfectly content to keep stroking Draco’s hair.  
When Draco woke the next day, he looked around the room properly for the first time. He’d never seen this room before. It seemed like it was made for them. His stomach grumbled and he almost laughed when he realized he was hungry. When was the last time he’d actually been hungry?  
As he slowly ate his bowl of cereal in bed with Harry, Draco started to realize just how ill he’d become. He’d barely slept or ate for months, not to mention daily cutting and panic attacks. Maybe Harry had been right about the nervous breakdown. He still didn’t feel back to his old self – not by a longshot – but he was beginning to feel as though a stray breath of wind may not shatter him into a million pieces, which was definitely progress.  
Their days evolved into a comfortable pattern. Harry tried to make Draco eat second helpings of everything and insisted on afternoon naps. In between they did homework and talked. Draco had never really talked to Harry, other than trading insults, and he was surprised at how easily their conversation flowed.  
He avoided all mention of his mission from the Dark Lord, and Harry took cues from him. When the fear threatened to overwhelm him, Harry would hold him until it was over. Harry was so attentive that he could see the slightest change in Draco’s mood, and was ready to jump at any moment.  
About a week since Harry had performed the time-freezing charm, Draco found himself awake when Harry wasn’t. He hadn’t been woken by a nightmare – Harry would have been woken up by that long before Draco was. He’d simply woken up naturally, something that hadn’t happened in months.   
He thought he’d start making breakfast from the food supplies Dobby delivered regularly. He should have known better. He’d barely gotten a few feet from the bed when fear crippled him. He realized that he hadn’t been more than reaching distance from Harry ever since they got here. Harry even escorted him to the bathroom. Draco had thrown a fit at first, but after his third panic attack while trying to shower, he’d given in and gotten over his embarrassment.   
Now, Harry’s sleeping form seemed impossibly far away, his protective arms out of reach. Everything came rushing back. They couldn’t stay in this room forever. Draco would at some point have to go back to that nightmare, the one that only ended in torture and death.  
The world was spinning and Draco automatically reached for his knife, but it wasn’t there. He looked around frantically for something he could use and saw a bread knife Dobby had left with a couple of loaves. His fingers were already curling around the handle when he stopped.  
Malfoys weren’t supposed to ask for help. They were supposed to be strong. Draco could imagine his father shaking his head in disappointment… but he found he didn’t want to cut. He wanted Harry. Harry wasn’t awake, though, so if Draco wanted him, he’d have to do something he’d never done in his life.   
The words finally burst from his throat as he struggled for air. “Harry. Help.”  
His voice was hoarse and strained, but Harry jumped up at once. Moments later, he was tugging the knife out of Draco’s grip, pulling him over to the bed.   
“It’s ok, you’re alright,” he murmured, holding Draco tightly to his chest in that way that made Draco calm down almost at once. Harry wiped the stray tears of Draco’s face, smiling.   
“That wasn’t so bad now, was it?”  
Draco shook his head. Was it really so bad to call for help when he needed it? Surely it couldn’t be worse than slashing his arms up. It certainly felt better to be in Harry’s strong arms, to have his tears wiped and his hair gently petted.   
“I’m sorry.”  
“I’m not.” Harry was clearly telling the truth. He looked nothing short of delighted that Draco had called for him. Emotionally exhausted, Draco fell into a deep sleep.

Harry smiled down at the sleeping form. The desperate, broken boy was slowly but surely receding. Draco wasn’t constantly shaking anymore, and that look of haunted fear was entering his eyes less and less often. Sometimes Harry’s relief was enough to make him dizzy. The thought of something happening to Draco was unbearable.  
They’d finished all their homework, and Harry had done Hermione proud by drawing up timetables and forcing Draco to start studying for exams, even though they were months away. To be honest, Draco needed it. Harry didn’t think he’d caught a single thing a teacher had said all year, and it was certainly good practice for him to reteach everything he knew.  
They were taking a break, talking and laughing, when Draco suddenly trailed off. “Why are you doing this?”  
They’d been leaning close to each other, and with Draco now turning to face him, his grey eyes were close enough for Harry to see individual eyelashes. He struggled to marshal his thoughts. He’d seen a lot of Draco in the past week, and he couldn’t deny that he liked it. He liked it a lot.   
Having those lips this close was scrambling his brain, and he tried in vain to come up with a coherent answer. “I don’t know,” he said honestly.   
His body was betraying him, leaning forward, and surely Draco would push him violently back at any moment.  
Instead, the Draco wrapped his arms around Harry and their lips met. Harry’s mind disengaged from his body as Draco moaned into the kiss and let his mouth open slightly. Harry took the opportunity at once and pushed his tongue into Draco’s mouth, exploring him gently.   
Their kiss heated up and Harry found his hands sliding under Draco’s shirt. They finally broke away, gasping for breath. There was a moment of awkward silence, and Harry grinned tentatively. Draco returned the grin, and Harry pressed him onto his back, continuing to kiss him senseless.

“How long do we have here?”  
Draco and Harry were naked in bed, the covers tangled at their feet.   
“Not that much longer,” Harry admitted. “It’s been two weeks. The spell doesn’t last forever. Maybe another five days.”  
He expected the wave of molten panic to cross Draco’s face, but this time, Harry didn’t have to pull him into his arms. Draco reached for him. He’d learned how to ask for help, he was eating and sleeping. Everything was fine… except the mystery of what it was that had driven Draco to this state in the first place.  
Harry calmed and comforted him with sure words. He knew by now exactly how to bring Draco down from one of his panic attacks. This time took longer than it had in a while, no doubt because of the prospect of ending their little time bubble.   
“I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he promised as Draco trembled, breathing properly but with tears still tracking their way down his face.   
Perhaps two weeks ago, Draco would have told him that he couldn’t help, that no one could. Things were different now, though. Draco turned, pressing his back into Harry’s chest in an oddly childlike motion. Then he started talking.  
He told Harry everything. He told him about being forcibly branded with the Dark Mark. He told him about him mission, and how he had utterly failed at it. He told him about the consequences, for him and his parents.  
Harry held him through all of it, letting him talk. When Draco finally hiccoughed himself into silence, Harry tugged on his shoulder, turning him around so that they were facing each other.   
“Do you trust me?” he asked.  
Draco answered without hesitation. “Yes.”  
“Then come with me. We’re going to Dumbledore.”  
Draco’s whole body stiffened and his eyes went wide. Harry rubbed his arm calmly, not breaking eye contact. “Trust me. Everything will be ok, I promise.”  
He pressed a chaste kiss to Draco’s lips, then his forehead. Finally, Draco nodded. He was trembling like a leaf again, and Harry wondered if he’d have to carry him.   
They stepped out to the castle exactly as they’d left it, that Saturday two weeks ago. Since then, everything had changed. Harry slipped an arm around Draco’s waist and the blond boy leaned into him, seeming suddenly smaller than usual.  
To say they got strange looks from other students was an understatement. At any other time, they would have laughed about it, but Draco looked more inclined to throw up than to laugh, so Harry kept quiet.   
The statue to Dumbledore’s office opened without waiting for a password, as though it had been expecting them. When they got up the spiral staircase, it turned out that they had indeed been expected. Dumbledore, Snape and McGonagall were waiting for them.  
Draco cringed into Harry at the sight of so many teachers, but Harry kept his arm firmly around him.   
“It’s ok. They’re here to help.”  
“That we are, Mr. Malfoy,” Dumbledore said gently. “I assume you have something to tell us?”  
For a few moments, Draco opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Harry pushed him into a chair and squeezed his hand. “You can do this. I promise.”  
Finally, Draco was able to speak. His hand was so tight on Harry’s that it was nearly cutting the circulation off, but Harry didn’t care. Dumbledore asked few questions, and by the time Draco was done, he was beaming.  
“You’ve done the right thing, Mr. Malfoy, coming to us. Of course, we will protect you. You are safe here in Hogwarts, of course. Severus will start the process of getting your parents out at once, though that may take a few weeks. It needs to done carefully.”  
“A few weeks?” Draco choked. “They could be dead by then!”  
Harry quickly got up and went to kneel in front of Draco. “Draco, look at me. That’s right, look at me. No one is letting your parents die. You understand? Snape will make sure to get them out before anything happens. Right?” He shot a glare at Snape, who nodded coolly. He may be on their side, but that didn’t mean Harry had to like him.  
“We will create a safe-house for your parents, and when you are not at Hogwarts, you may join them there for the summer holidays,” McGonagall told him. “Unless, that is, you’d prefer to spend your time at another protected house…”  
Her eyes flickered uncertainly between Harry and Draco. Harry grinned at the thought of bring Draco to Privet Drive of the Weasleys. He wasn’t sure either of those would go down too well, but there was no way he was leaving Draco alone, even if it was with his parents.   
He felt protective of him, and cared about him more than he liked to admit. He couldn’t imagine going back to days or weeks without seeing him, without kissing him or taking off his clothes so slowly that Draco begged for him to hurry up.  
“Very well, the two of you may go back to your dormitories. We will update you soon, Draco.”  
Draco froze in panic.   
“Will you be ok without me?” Harry asked softly, his back still to his teachers.  
Draco shook his head frantically, unable to speak.   
“Sir, Draco still isn’t well,” Harry told Dumbledore. “He… I’ve been helping him. I don’t want to leave him alone.”  
“But of course.” Dumbledore’s eyes were twinkling. “Draco may stay with you in your dormitory and eat with you at the Gryffindor table. It may take a little tweaking of his schedule, but I’m sure we can get you into the same classes.”  
McGonagall nodded. “Easy enough.”  
Harry gulped. How were the other Gryffindors going to react to Draco?  
“Sir, we were staying in the Room of Requirement…”  
“Your dormitory will be perfect, Harry,” Dumbledore said lightly.   
Draco was watching Harry worriedly. “Are you ashamed of me?” he whispered.  
“What? No, Draco, of course not! How can you say that? I’m worried for you. My friends… well, Hermione will probably be ok, but Ron and the others… Let’s just say it’ll take some time for them to get used to you being there. Don’t worry, I’ll hex them if I have to. Unless you’d rather stay in Slytherin?”  
“No,” Draco said quickly. “Too many of them have parents loyal to the Dark Lord. If he hears that you’re staying with me, it could put my parents in more danger.”  
“Gryffindor it is, then. Come on.”  
Harry worried that all the progress Draco had been making was being undone with every step closer to the Gryffindor common room they took. He was ghostly pale again, and leaned more heavily on Harry’s supporting arm with every step.   
They got a few funny looks from a couple of Ravenclaws, but other than that, they didn’t run into anyone. By the time they reached the Gryffindor portrait hole, Draco looked like he was going to pass out. Harry hadn’t seen him this scared in a while, and he didn’t like it.  
“Do you need a minute?”  
Draco nodded mutely sunk down to the ground. Harry went with him, putting an arm around the shaking boy.   
“Look, let me go talk to them first, alright? It’ll just take a minute, and I promise no one will give you any trouble.”  
Draco shook his head frantically, his breathing edging once more to hyperventilation.   
“You’re alright, come here.” Harry pulled him and waited until Draco had calmed somewhat, but he was still sick and pasty-looking.  
“Trust me? I’ll just be a minute.”  
Finally, Draco nodded.

Pressed as he was against the wall, Draco could hear the muffled sound of voices in the Gryffindor common room. He heard a few pleased exclamations – clearly Harry’s friends greeting him. There was a few minutes of quiet conversation, and then someone started shouting.  
Draco cringed into the wall. This was a bad idea. He knew it. One voice made itself heard over all the rest, and though Draco still couldn’t quite make out the words, he recognized Harry’s voice. There was more shouting and several alarming bangs, coupled with what sounded like a scream.  
A moment later, the portrait hole opened and Harry stuck his head out. He looked slightly flushed, but otherwise unharmed.   
“Come on.”  
After a moment, he seemed to realize that Draco couldn’t move himself, and climbed out of the portrait hole to help him.  
Draco couldn’t help but look around curiously. The corridor was warm and cozy, and filled with Gryffindors. He braced himself, but not a single nasty comment was made. In fact, most of the Gryffindors looked almost… scared. He saw them shooting nervous glances at Harry. One had a nosebleed and another was nursing a wrist that looked to have been hit with a stinging hex.   
Granger and Weasley were suddenly there. Draco automatically tried to move back, but Harry’s arm around him prevented it.  
“Hello, Draco,” she said warmly. “I’m so glad that you’re going to be staying with us.”  
Weasley was examining the ground with intense scrutiny. Harry shot him a venomous glare.   
“Yeah… welcome, Malfoy,” he muttered.  
Harry raised his eyebrows and Weasley quickly backtracked.  
“Draco, I mean. Welcome, I guess…”  
Draco had to fight the urge to giggle. He didn’t know exactly what Harry had done – though the nosebleed and stinging hex gave him some idea – but clearly the other Gryffindors were terrified to so much as breathe wrong in his direction. They must have been some pretty impressive threats to get Weasley to play nice. Granger, at least, seemed mostly sincere.   
Harry ushered him upstairs shortly after that. Thankfully, all of Harry’s dorm mates seemed to be downstairs. Draco practically collapsed onto Harry’s four poster.  
“There, that wasn’t so bad.”  
Draco snorted. “For you.”  
Harry kissed him. “They’ll be nice, I promise.”  
Though his nerves were by no means banished, Draco felt warm and fuzzy at the thought that Harry would threaten his own friends just to make sure Draco didn’t have a hard time.


	4. Chapter 4

Unfortunately, being back to normal castle life was harder than Draco had thought it would be. His nightmares were particularly hard that night. He woke Harry up at least five times screaming, and it took a while to calm him down.   
He was exhausted the next morning. The only blessing was that Harry had apparently cast a silencing charm on his curtains, so at least the rest of the Gryffindor boys weren’t glaring at Draco for keeping them up. Honestly he wasn’t sure why Harry put up with him.  
His stomach roiled at the smells of food and he started dragging his feet. Memories were crashing down on him, and he started shaking again. His breathing hitched and he stopped walking altogether.  
Harry pulled him aside from the throngs of students heading down for breakfast. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs gave them strange looks, and the Gryffindors seemed to lose their courage entirely and gave the two of them a wide berth. Draco didn’t even want to think about facing the Slytherins.   
“Hey, it’s alright, it’s just breakfast.”  
Draco shook his head, unable to speak. His finger nails were digging so hard into his palms that they had started to bleed. Harry gently pried his hands open, holding them so that Draco’s nails couldn’t dig into the flesh.   
“I can’t,” he whispered. “The Slytherins… when they see me with you… they won’t understand…”  
“Don’t worry about the Slytherins,” Harry said grimly. “You were in much of a state to notice, but as we were leaving, Dumbledore asked Snape to talk to them. No doubt he threatened them with poison. Knowing Snape, he’d do it, too.”  
A hysterical laugh bubbled out of Draco’s mouth, and Harry took advantage of the opportunity to keep him moving. Before he knew it, they were both seated at the Gryffindor table. Weasley and Granger both greeted him, and the other Gryffindors didn’t pay much notice.   
Harry started piling his plate with food, but Draco felt sick. Regardless, Harry buttered him a slice of toast. Draco stared at it as though it was going to bite him.   
“I can’t,” he whispered.   
“You can.” Harry’s voice was warm and encouraging.   
“I’ll be sick.”  
“You have to eat, Draco.”  
All Draco could think about was all the eyes on him. They weren’t saying anything, but they were watching, judging. Harry was talking in a calming voice, but the words started to buzz in his ears. Draco was dizzy and sick. His vision was starting to blur. His eyes roved the around wildly, searching for anything that could help him.  
His eyes lighted on the bread knife and he lunged for it. Harry seemed to have been expecting something like that, and was prying it out of his hand. Draco struggled, getting more panicked by the moment. He was on the verge of screaming.  
Then Harry’s forehead was being pressed against his, and Draco could feel his warm breath.  
“It’s ok,” Harry breathed. “Just relax. Try to breathe.”  
Draco felt himself starting to cry and he stumbled up, not wanting the rest of the school to see this. Harry went with him, helping him into a sitting position just outside the great hall.   
“Hey, Draco, it’s ok. There’s nothing to be afraid of anymore, remember?”  
Draco didn’t know why he was falling apart like this. He’d thought he was getting better, but everything was exactly the same as it had been before, and he couldn’t cope. Everything except Harry, who was still kneeling in front of him.   
“I know it’s hard,” he said softly, “but you can’t stay away from the rest of the world forever. You need to be able to function around other people. You’ll get there. I’m not going to leave your side, I promise.”  
Slowly, Draco calmed, though his stomach still felt like it was trying to jump out through his throat.   
“I need to cut,” he said hoarsely. “Please, just once. I need to…”  
“I’m sorry, Draco, but I can’t let you.”  
Draco hung his head, suddenly exhausted.   
“Accio toast!”  
Harry was pushing the toast into his hand. “Please, just eat one piece? For me?”  
With Harry’s comforting arms around him, Draco finally managed to take a small bite. Harry encouraged him with each bite until it was all gone.  
“Well done. Come on, let’s get to class.”  
Draco wanted to cry. They’d only just finished breakfast and already he felt like he’d climbed a mountain.  
“I can’t.” He hated how broken his voice sounded.  
“I’ll make you a deal, ok?” Harry waited until Draco was looking into his eyes before continuing. “You try – try your very best – and in return, if it really gets to be too much, I’ll take you away. Alright?”  
“The teachers…”   
“Dumbledore will have talked to them by now. They’re not going to cause any trouble.”  
Finally, Draco nodded and let Harry pull him to his feet. Their first class was charms. He was on the Gryffindor schedule now, and let Harry lead him by the hand along corridors.  
Draco’s head was spinning. What was wrong with him? He’d at least had a reason for his mental meltdown before. Fear of torture and death would drive anyone around the bend. Now, the danger was lifted. He was safe, his parents would soon be safe. Then why could he not go back to how he was? What was wrong with him?  
The answer hit him like a door slamming shut on his mind. He was just too broken. Harry had been too late. He looked at the Gryffindor and realized that Harry would kill himself trying to care for Draco. When Draco finally broke for good, it would break Harry too, and Draco couldn’t live with that. There was only one thing to do.  
It wasn’t perhaps the best plan, but when had Draco ever been good at anything? Half way through charms, he asked to go to the bathroom, and Flitwick dismissed him. Harry got up to follow, but Draco waved him off, saying he was fine. With a sinking feeling, he saw that Harry had no intention of leaving him alone, even for a minute.   
It would never normally have worked. Harry was a thousand times more powerful than Draco could ever hope to be. Perhaps it was because it was the last thing Harry was expecting, but Draco caught him by surprise. Harry froze in his seat as the full body bind curse hit him.  
It would only take a minute for his friends to realize and remove the curse, so Draco had to hurry. He didn’t have time to make it to the astronomy tower. Hell, he probably didn’t even have time to make it to the nearest bathroom. He dashed into the nearest empty classroom and transfigured a stray quill into a viciously sharp knife.  
He didn’t hesitate, slashing as deeply as he could. Blood splattered everywhere and Draco at once felt lightheaded, but he didn’t stop. He kept cutting, cutting to save himself from this broken life, to save Harry from breaking with him…  
There were voices shouting, but everything was fading blissfully away. Draco felt powerful relief. This was it. He didn’t have to struggle anymore. It was finally over.

“Draco, no, please, no!”  
Harry didn’t know what he was saying as he pleaded for Draco not to leave him. There was blood everywhere and he couldn’t find his wand, having dropped it somewhere in the scarlet pool. He desperately tried to hold closed the gaping wounds all down Draco’s forearms, but it seemed to make no difference.  
Suddenly he wasn’t alone. Hermione was trying to pull him back as Professor Flitwick knelt over Draco and started muttering the charm to close the wounds. Harry felt like he couldn’t breathe as the flow of blood slowed, then stopped. Draco looked so pale.  
With a flick of his wand, Flitwick summoned a potion into the room and poured it down Draco’s throat. Draco was unconscious at his point, at least Harry hoped he was…  
“Scourgify.”  
The blood disappeared at Hermione’s spell, but Harry could still see it, covering everything.   
Soft hands were helping him up and he walked like a zombie, following after Flitwick, who was levitating Draco to the hospital wing.   
Harry protested when someone tried to push him into the bed next to Draco’s. He wasn’t the one who was hurt. His struggles were in vain, and he found himself swallowing a potion. The world came into clearer focus, and his hands stopped shaking.  
“…in shock,” Madame Pomfrey was saying. “He just needs to rest.”  
“Draco?” Harry croaked, trying once again to get out of bed, but someone was holding his shoulders down.  
“He’ll be fine, Harry,” Madame Pomfrey said kindly. “He may sleep for a while, but he’ll make a full recovery.”  
Harry nearly fainted in relief, and then he felt tears prickling at his eyes. Ron and Hermione were there, with looks full of understanding and kindness.  
He looked at Hermione. “I can’t lose him,” Harry said brokenly.  
“I know, Harry, I know.”  
He was crying and he felt the telltale signs of a panic attack coming on, something that hadn’t happened in almost a year. If Draco had died…

Draco woke to the sound of urgent voices. To his surprise, they weren’t clustered around the bed he was lying in, but in one next to him. His eyes cracked open, and it took a minute for his brain to make sense of the confused images in front of him.  
Harry was sitting bolt upright in the hospital bed, hyperventilating and sobbing. Weasley had his hand in a firm grip, and Granger was stroking his hair, speaking soothing words to him. Draco had never seen Harry fall apart like this, and it terrified him. He automatically tried to get out of bed, to comfort him. His legs collapsed the moment they hit the ground.   
Weasley was closest and caught him. Harry garbled something unintelligible, and Ron nodded, heaving Draco up and helping him into Harry’s bed.  
Harry clung to him, just like all those times Draco had clung to Harry.   
Draco hated seeing Harry like this. He just wanted it to be ok. He gathered Harry into his arms and murmured to him. “It’s ok, Harry, you’re ok.”  
He stroked Harry’s hair, trying to remember everything Harry did for him when he was panicking. Finally, Harry’s breathing eased out and he slumped down, bring Draco with him. The sobs only increased, and Harry clung to Draco’s hospital gown, shaking violently as he cried.  
“Harry…”  
“You – can’t – do – that,” Harry gasped between sobs. “I can’t – lo-lose you…”  
He clung more tightly and his words broke down into blubbering.  
Draco hugged him tightly, shocked.   
“I’m too broken. You’re better off without me.”  
Harry sat up again, suddenly angry.  
“Better off without you? You fucking idiot! I’m in love with you, how could I be better off without you? I can’t do this without you by my side, Draco…”  
As he fell back to sobbing and Draco once more gathered the Gryffindor in his arms, he realized that he’d been wrong. He wasn’t the only one who was broken. Harry was broken too. He should have realized. How else would Harry always exactly know what to do, if he hadn’t been through it himself?  
He thought about everything Harry had gone through, watching the Dark Lord rise, seeing Diggory killed, the events at the ministry… Hell, he was probably more broken than Draco was. At least, he had been.  
“I’m sorry,” Draco said, pressing a kiss to Harry’s forehead. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you. What if… what if I can’t be fixed?”  
“Then I don’t want to be fixed either,” Harry said, tears still falling quick and fast down his cheeks. “You made me feel alive again, Draco. I didn’t see the ghosts anymore, and I can’t go back to that. Seeing you there, so pale, and all that blood… if you’d have died, I’d have taken that knife and died with you. I can’t go on if you’re not here…”  
“I didn’t realize…”  
“That I needed you too? Of course I do! How could you ever think otherwise?”  
“I’ll try. I swear, I’ll try, Harry.”  
Harry nodded, sniffling, and Draco rested his chin on top of Harry’s head. If Harry could come back from being broken, maybe Draco could too. Their fates were linked now. It was too late. Harry wouldn’t live without him, and Draco couldn’t bear the thought of a world without Harry. If that meant he had to put himself back together again, then he’d have to find some way to do it.   
Finally, Harry calmed down and slipped into a deep sleep. Draco was still weak and exhausted, and soon found himself also drifting off. Just before sleep took him, he remembered something and shook Harry awake.  
“Harry?”  
“Hmm?” Harry mumbled sleepily.  
“I love you too.”  
Harry’s smile seemed to light up the whole room, and Draco pressed a kiss to his lips before letting them both get some rest.

Five weeks later  
Draco hugged his mother and bade her goodbye. His father nodded to him before the two of them disapparated to the safe house.   
“You sure?” Harry asked, coming up behind him.   
“I’m sure. Even though this house is hardly the best accommodation…”  
“We’re working on it!” Harry said indignantly. “At least you weren’t here for all those doxies…”  
“It is getting better,” Draco admitted, looking around Grimmauld place.   
“Harry, Draco, lunch time!”  
Draco took a deep breath and clutched Harry’s hand. Eating was still hard for him. On bad days, Harry had to take him to their room to calm him and let him eat without anyone else around.   
The panic attacks were less, especially now that his parents were safe, though he still had them, along with nightmares.  
Hermione – yes, they were now on a first name basis – had given him a book on mental disorders. It had actually been helpful. Draco realized that just because the cause for his breakdown was gone didn’t mean he’d be fine immediately, and that was ok.  
Harry didn’t have to watch him like a hawk every moment anymore. Draco had certainly had slips, when he wanted to cut or just to end it all, but now he called for Harry whenever that happened. Harry was always there in an instant, talking him down, helping him breathe.   
After the final confrontation with the Dark Lord, Harry had had a few nightmares himself, and Draco found himself liking taking care of Harry as well as letting Harry take care of him. His parents had wanted him to stay in the safe house with them, but he’d flatly refused to leave Harry. Eventually, they’d stopped arguing, and they even came to visit sometimes.   
It was the summer holidays, and the next year they would be returning to Hogwarts. Sometimes the thought scared Draco so much that he curled into a ball in the corner and couldn’t move for hours. When this happened, Harry would carry him to their bed and slip in beside him, not leaving his side, just like he’s promised.  
“You ok?” Harry asked.  
Draco nodded, squeezing Harry’s hand again. Mrs. Weasley fussed over them as they took their places at the table, dishing Draco a huge portion, but Harry knew by now to take half of it when she wasn’t looking, making the portion size manageable for him.  
“Hey Draco, we still on for our rematch after lunch?” Ron asked.  
“You bet. The score is what, five-three?”  
“It’s five-four! I beat you that last time!”  
“Whatever you say, Ron…”  
Ron feigned an offended expression, but Draco knew he was secretly pleased to have someone to play chess with who actually challenged him. He also knew that if he started having a panic attack during the game, Ron would brush it off with a clap on the shoulder and an easy smile. Despite his initial reservations, they two of them were actually on their way to becoming friends.  
Harry stood behind Draco to watch the match, playing with his hair. Ron insisted his best friend pick up tips from the two of them, but Draco privately thought that chess would never be one of Harry’s many talents.  
When Draco won, Harry kissed him and Ron pointedly looked away.   
“I love you, you know,” Harry said.   
“I love you too.”   
Draco smiled as Harry took his hand, knowing that he would never have to let go. 

 

The End


End file.
